


My Perfection

by cadkitten



Category: Dir en grey
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Love Confessions, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-28
Updated: 2009-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-04 00:49:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shinya has always felt comfortable in Die's presence. After so many years, he realizes he's actually in love with him. It only takes the right place at the right time and it all comes spilling out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Perfection

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elenilovesyou](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=elenilovesyou).



> For **vk_springsmut**. For **elenilovesyou**.  
>  Couldn't seem to work the 'daddy' bit into it without it seeming forced. I figured it was better to leave it out than to just suddenly shove it in somewhere it obviously didn't belong. I hope that's okay. Due May 13th.  
> Beta Readers: kawaiikyo, elyachan  
> Song[s]: "Bleeding Love" by Leona Lewis

Shinya POV

It's taken me months to get to this point, to find a place and time where I'm comfortable enough with myself to even begin to feel like I can tell him what he does to me. I've known him for a little over eleven years and he's always meant so much to me, even if I never showed him that he has. In all honesty, he's been a model, an inspiration for what I'm trying to hit somewhere inside myself. I think if he even knew that much, he'd smile that much more often, share that infection of beauty with the entire world at least once a day.

The only thing that holds me back is wondering if what I have to tell him will pull that smile free or if it'll hide it away from my gaze. I need that smile, need it like the air I breathe. Without it, I think I'll fall off the cloud of hope it builds to support me. I'm clinging to dreams, holding on to hopes that I know I shouldn't even have. Maybe I'm crazy, maybe I'm not... it's hardly relevant if I am or not though, because even if I were, I wouldn't stop loving him.

We're sitting in a coffee shop off the edge of the main street in some little town. I don't even know where we are; it doesn't matter. Between gigs; on our way to the next one. I called him about an hour ago and begged him to come with me to this little twenty-four hour joint for a piece of pie and some coffee. Of course, he didn't order pie and he's sipping water rather than coffee, but that's just one more thing to love about him. And the fact that he keeps stealing little bites of my lemon meringue pie puts a pleasant giddy feeling deep inside my body.

Our conversation has been mostly about the antics of the others and ourselves so far this trip. We talked about how someone changed out my water for vodka two nights ago. Die blamed Kaoru for it, but I honestly think it was him. Kyo apparently put baker's chocolate into Kaoru's stash of candy, knowing he couldn't read the label for it, just to watch him get upset and make a horrible face when he ate it. On top of that, Kaoru retaliated by putting plastic wrap on the toilet seat, but apparently he accidentally got Die on that one instead of Kyo.

I'm stuck figuring out how to get the conversation to move closer to what I brought him down here to talk about... so stuck that I entirely miss what he says. His hand is suddenly on mine, his eyes fixed with my own, concern written all over his face. He can always read me, always knows when I'm thinking too much or when I need him to simply be there for me. Maybe that's why he started talking about what he did... it's just Die's way of trying to lighten the atmosphere around people.

It's almost as if the world is frozen around us in that moment. I can't let him think something is so very wrong that he needs to worry about it the way he obviously is. I have to be honest, direct... to the point. Before I know it, I open my mouth and let the words I've been dying to say slip out. "Die... I think I'm in love with you."

He blinks at me, at first looking a little confused and then shocked. His hand never leaves my own, but he looks down at his cup of water, wetting his lips as he ponders what I've just admitted to him. There's nothing in his expression indicates that he's mad and I'm so thankful for _that_ that it doesn't even matter if he returns any of my feelings. As long as he doesn't hate me, everything will be fine.

Most people would apologize after a drawn-out silence. Not me. I refuse to say I'm sorry for something that I'm not at all regretful about saying. It would lessen the power of the words, the emotion of the moment and no one - Die most of all - deserves that.

It's almost ten minutes before he speaks up. But when he does, both his hands come to hold one of mine and he looks me right in the eye. No one I've ever known has been able to lock me in place with a simple look like this. Kyo can do it, but only with the look that says he's going to kill you if you move. Die does it with such an air that you usually don't realize he's holding you captive until he lets you go.

"You really mean that? It's not just a passing thing, something that tomorrow you'll realize you were having a sudden fit of emotion or anything like that?" There's something so incredibly deep in his eyes that it rips my breath from my throat and sends my heart into a frenzy.

I study him until I feel like I have to speak or I'll burst. "I mean it. I..." I'm not sure how much I should say, how much I should tell him, but I'm certain it has to be something more the words I've already uttered, "I'm in love with you and there's no way it's anything less than that. I've only felt it once before in my life... and this is stronger than even that." He knows what I'm referring to, the girlfriend I thought was going to be my life before the world ripped her away from me. Out of everyone, he was the one who was there for me during that whole experience... and maybe that has something to do with why we're sitting here now, having this conversation. The things that friends will do for one another, the places they'll reach willingly into to pull another back to the surface so they can breathe again... it bonds them together in a way that only grows with time and actions. And we've certainly had the time... and Die always has the actions.

He swallows thickly, looking away for a moment, his lashes dusting across his cheeks briefly. The way his hands tighten ever so slightly around my own talks to me and tells me that I only have to be patient, that he'll answer everything in a moment. When he meets my eyes again, there's a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "If you had any idea what you've just done, you might never have done it at all." The words themselves are unimportant; it's the look in his eyes that matters most, the way he's almost looking into my soul without even trying.

I don't even notice he's closer to me until his eyelids fall closed and his moist lips brush lightly across my own. My breath catches and my heart tries to escape my chest. It's involuntary, but my free hand twines in his hair, holding him still as I press my mouth more firmly to his, deepening what was meant to be a brief contact. I can't seem to help it, can't seem to stop it. If there weren't a table in the way, I'd be molded against his body, trying my best to show him without words exactly how I feel about him.

The contact breaks when he sits back, withdrawing his hands from my own and getting out his wallet, paying for my coffee and pie, leaving the bills on the white Formica counter and slipping smoothly from his seat. Just like the gentleman he is, he offers me his hand, that smile still pulling at his lips. I take it and stand up, willing to go anywhere with him. If he asked me to go to the ends of the world with him, I would without hesitation.

The walk back to our hotel is silent, not even a word passing between us. Normally that would make me nervous, but with Die, I just know he wants to keep it all in private. His past seeps into his actions and I know it can't be helped. Even getting a kiss from him in public was a risk to both of us, a potential that it could be on every headline in the morning. I'm lucky he didn't push me away in there. I've seen him do it to a number of girls at bars over the years. Not because he doesn't want them, but because he can't risk certain things ever happening again. The fact that he initiated the kiss and then allowed me to let it linger the way he did speaks volumes to me.

He leads me to his room, unlocking the door and opening it, stepping back and holding it to let me in. I slip inside, instantly taking off my shoes, unable to break such an ingrained habit. The door clicks shut and I hear the main security lock snap into place as he turns it. His shoes join mine on the floor and before I even fully straighten up, his arms are around my waist, pulling me against the hard lines of his body. I melt into him, unafraid of where I'm almost certain this is going, wanting it too much to let myself think on the step we'll be taking.

I don't know what I expected, maybe for Die to be the kind of guy to do things almost desperately, to move quickly toward the main event and then go take a shower right after. But that's not Die's way... at least not with me. The first touch of our lips behind closed doors is just as gentle as the one we shared in the coffee shop. He showers me with affection, his touches making me feel sexier than I ever have in my entire life, the brush of his lips over my lips, my cheeks, neck and shoulder is so gentle that I feel almost as though I'm being tortured by them.

My knees are weak by the time he moves us to the bed, urging me to lay back, but not forcing me to. I slide onto the flowered hotel comforter, pushing my way back until my head is lying on a pillow. He follows, his shirt falling to the floor along the way. When he leans down to kiss me again, his fingers start to work the buttons open on my shirt. The press of his lips is a little more insistent, just enough to let me know how much he definitely wants. I respond, letting him know that I'm okay with where we're going, raising my hips enough to let them touch his.

A moan slips free from him, music to my ears as he moves down to my neck again, licking and kissing there, but making sure he's doing it light enough not to mark me. It drives me further from want and closer to need. My shirt slips up my arms and gets caught at my wrists, capturing them above my head, bound in the material he's decided to leave right where it is. I could probably escape it if I wanted to, but I have no reason to want to yet.

His mouth burns a trail down my chest, to one nipple where he laves over it with his tongue. A gentle suction to it causes me to gasp, my eyelids to flutter. Before the sensations have died from that, he's found the other, rolling it between his thumb and index finger, tugging it into a peak. My hips roll up, my back arching and I know it's more than obvious to him how I feel the instant I make contact with his thigh. The friction makes me cry out, the sound soft, but quite obviously needy. I don't even bother to stop myself from rocking against his thigh, whimpering with every single movement.

No one has ever made me feel like this, made me want so desperately to be with them. He's making me ache from the outside in. By the time he's done torturing my chest, I'm riding his thigh, my hips rolling sensuously. But then his thigh is gone and my eyes crack open to stare at him as he runs his hands down my sides, over my hips, then drawing the leg I'd had under him up and resting it across his own. His fingers deftly open my jeans, not even fumbling once. He somehow makes the action erotic. Normally, I'd have been impatient to get it over with. But watching Die take my pants off is almost as hot as watching a stripper take off their clothing. My jeans hit the floor, my eyes watching them fall. When I look back at him, his hands are resting on his belt, but he's not moving yet.

"Is this what you want, Shinya?"

The words catch me off guard; force me to think for a moment before I'm nodding at him. "It is." I could have said a million things, could have told him how I've thought of him at night for the past few months until it makes me hard, could have told him stories about my fantasies or even said something that sounded more wanton... but I give him the simple answer, because it's what he's looking for. Die's always been like that. Cautious. It's a good thing to be in our world and I know he waited longer with me than he would have with anyone else to ask.

He gives me a smoldering look, unbuckling his belt and pulling free the buttons keeping his pants together. Even the way he takes them off is erotic, his hips moving just the right amount as he moves them down his hips and slides them off his legs, letting them join mine on the floor. The smile on his lips is more than enough to let me know he's pleased with my decision, but the way his erection stands out proudly makes it even more obvious.

I open my mouth to speak, but I never get the chance to tell him how incredibly beautiful he is. His lips cover my own, his tongue finding its way into my mouth to twine with my own as he slips between my thighs, moving over me as if he's already taking me. His arousal slides against my own and I find myself completely lost in the sensation of it all. The way his hips move against mine should be made illegal, the way it feels so incredibly sinful that I know if he keeps it up, I'll be lost before we even start.

When he pulls back from the kiss, his eyes are darker than I've ever seen them, filled with such desire that I think I'm going mad. I don't even notice he's doing anything until one slick finger presses against my entrance. If I hadn't been imagining this moment for so long, my first response might have been to pull away from the touch. But instead I push back against it, my body taking the slim digit in without a problem. There's something close to amusement in his eyes, but he doesn't say a word, simply adding a second finger to the first, thrusting them into me the way I'm sure he wants to be doing with his cock in a minute.

"I want you..." the words cut through my haze of lust at the same time that he pulls his fingers free of me, the sound of a condom opening greeting my ears. A moment later, he's pressed against me, the heat of his arousal making me impatient. I need him like I've never needed anyone or anything in my entire life. I'd give up breathing if it would help me feel him inside me for even a moment. My body arches, a cry slipping from my mouth as his arms slip under me and he pushes inside me in one solid thrust.

It's straining him to stay still, I can tell by the way his thighs are tensed under me, but he does it anyway. His lips soothe me, kissing any flesh he can reach from his position. My hips roll experimentally and stars light up my vision, a surprised sound ripping from my throat. The intensity of this feeling is unlike anything else I've ever known. Trembling, I do it again, gasping in near-delirium. Then he's moving, his thrusts deep, purposeful, letting me know he knows exactly what he's doing. The blinding pleasure returns every single time, causing me to writhe beneath him.

My body finally falls into synch with his, both of us moving at once, complimenting each other's movements. I tug my hands free of my shirt and reach for him, my hands exploring his back, reaching down to cup his ass, feeling the way the muscles strain as he moves. Our eyes connect as the pace escalates, driving us higher and higher. One of his hands slides around my side, caressing my hip and then grasping my length. Every thrust of my own hips moves me into his hand, the flesh of his palm teasing my heated arousal. When I lose it, it hits me almost out of nowhere, ripping a cry from my throat that I'm sure is loud enough the adjoining rooms will have heard it.

Die hangs on longer than I do, long enough to let me open my eyes again and look up at him. Our eyes meet and it's as if that's his trigger. His back arches, his hair cascading around his shoulders so beautifully, the look on his face one of pure and utter bliss. I slide my hand down his chest, taking in everything about him in that moment, memorizing it to add to the list of perfect moments in my mind. His eyes open again and he pegs me with a look that tells me without a doubt that he loves me just like I love him. Maybe he won't say it yet, but he's letting me know in every single other way he can.

He lies beside me, discarding the remnants of our lovemaking into the tiny metal trashcan beside the bed, and then opens his arms to me. The kiss we share once I'm nestled against him overflows with emotion. From anyone else it might have been suffocating in intensity. But, to me... this is what love is all about. To me... this is perfection... and he's all mine.

**The End**  



End file.
